


It's a Family Affair

by overratedantihero



Series: You Don't Own Me (I'm Not One of Your Many Toys) [7]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Awkward Conversations, Birth Control, Brotherly Banter, Brotherly Parenting, Camping, Canon Typical Violence, Dick is an Omega, Discussions of birth control, Eloping, Helicopter Dad Bruce Wayne, Hurt/Comfort, IUD, Invasive Parenting, M/M, Mixed Emotional Signals, Slade is an Alpha, Strong Language, burn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17377094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overratedantihero/pseuds/overratedantihero
Summary: Dick and Slade abscond to a cabin in the woods for privacy, but Bruce implements underhanded tactics to lure Dick home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No one ever talks about uteri in A/B/O. Dick has a uterus. And now he has an IUD too.

Dick groaned, a pitched, keening noise followed by a sharp intake of breath. He curled up tight, biting a pillow as the sharp cramps tore through his lower abdomen. Soft heat settled over his shoulders and he relaxed enough to wrap the electric blanket around himself. A broad, tall body settled behind Dick, and an impossibly big hand pressed the blanket more firmly against Dick's lower abdomen, over his uterus. Or at least, where Dick assumed his uterus was. He never really took the time to parse that out, nor did he want to. With a shudder, Dick considered the fact that Bruce probably maintained copies of all of his medical records and knew more about his body than he himself.

“How are you feeling, little bird?” Slade rumbled, his scent smooth and smoky and utterly soothing. Even more so than the terribly soft bed, or the rustic, unlit fireplace across the room, or the red cedar log walls.

Renting a cabin while Dick recovered from his IUD insertion was Slade’s idea, and Dick conceded because he was desperate for privacy. But Dick wasn’t too prideful to admit that the fragrant woods and Slade’s undivided attention were more than nice. It was nearly enough to make Dick forget about the discomfort of the procedure.

Another vicious cramp wracked Dick in a wave of teeth-grinding, breath shortening pain. Nearly.

“I’m feeling okay,” Dick cheeped.

Slade growled so softly into Dick's hair that Dick huffed out a laugh.

“Feeling helpless?” Dick mused. Before Slade could reply, Dick added with a wiggle, “Don’t humor that with a response, I know better than to sentimentalize this relationship. But, I’m okay, really. I've had stab wounds worse than this.” At least, Dick thought he'd had worse stab wounds. It was hard to tell. 

Behind Dick, Slade shifted. He drew his hand from Dick's stomach to his hip, and he tilted his head back so that his face wasn't nestled in Dick's hair anymore. There was a beat, and then Slade pulled away entirely. Dick wasn't sure what happened, but Slade appeared a touch colder than he was before. 

“Go to sleep, kid,” Slade murmured, sliding out of the bed and tucking the electric blanket underneath Dick. “I have an errand to run.”

“In the woods?” Dick asked, sitting up and quirking his eyebrows. Slade didn't respond; instead, he grabbed a duffel bag and hunting rifle from the closet at the far end of the room.

“Yes, in the woods,” Slade said, slipping into his boots and walking out the door.

Dick fell back onto the pillow with a huff. 

* * *

 

“What could he possibly be doing in the woods?” Tim snorted, face cast in the blue-white glow of the Batcomputer’s expansive monitors from where he lounged in a rolling chair. “He left his Nightwing gear in Bludhaven, and his Spyral getup is in his safe house in Spain, so he’s clearly not working.”

Duke paused in polishing his helmet to cast Tim an incredulous glance. “Have... have you never gone camping?”

“Of course I have!” Tim shot back, turning on his chair to face him. Duke frowned.

“No, I mean, like, for fun. Have you ever gone camping for fun?”

Tim opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he said, “Well, no.”

From where he was scaling up a pull-up bar stand, Damian chirped, "Camping for leisure is inane. It's an excellent training exercise and should be treated as such." He reached out, finally having climbed high enough to reach the bar itself, last set by Jason. 

“Boys, focus,” Bruce snapped. He glared at the pulsating dot on the monitor’s blue map, showcasing Dick’s location courtesy of the tracker Bruce slid into his skin during their altercation at Dick’s apartment. Dick appeared to be in an isolated area within the Pine Barrens.

“Per Red Robin’s reconnaissance,” Bruce continued, “there was no sign of a struggle in Nightwing's Bludhaven apartment. Nightwing’s suitcase was missing, along with about four sets of clothes and his entire cache of over the counter medication. The medication is likely, but not necessarily, related to his recent IUD insertion.”

Damian fell off the pull up bar.

“Why,” Duke hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “would you know about that? He hasn’t spoken to us in days! Your fault, by the way.”

“Well. His and Jason’s,” Tim helpfully supplied, swiveling in his chair. “Helena and Babs didn’t help either." Tim frowned and stilled in his chair. "Dick probably ran off to the woods to get away from us.” Tim sunk deeper into the chair. “That. That feels pretty bad, actually.”

“Tt,” Damian scoffed, abandoning the pull up bar to skulk over with his arms crossed. “Grayson may leave Todd, you, or even Father, but he wouldn’t leave me.”

"Shut up, short stack," Tim shot back. 

"You're one to talk. I'm still growing, you're stuck like that short of a cosmic event," Damian hissed, gesturing to Tim's body. 

Meanwhile, Bruce cleared his throat. “Robin’s right.” Three heads swiveled to blink at Bruce. “Nightwing may fight or flee if I approach him, but Damian is his Robin, almost as much as Damian is mine. He would listen to you,” Bruce finished, turning to face Damian.

Damian beamed, but Duke made a face. “Dick mentored all of us. Is this because Robin’s a kid and Dick’s an omega? That’s kind of bigoted, Bruce.”

“I’m not a child!” Damian shrilled, his pubescent voice cracking into a sharp pitch. Tim snorted.

“You haven’t even presented yet. To Dick, you probably still have that new baby smell,” Tim snarled.

Bruce returned to the monitors, never mind that Duke was forced to place himself between Tim and Damian to avoid a brawl. “You have your directive, Robin. You will secure Nightwing,” Bruce asserted. 

“So, you’re going to send a 13-year-old kid into the woods to confront an angry Nightwing and, very likely, Deathstroke alone? ” Duke accused. "Even if this wasn't manipulative, which it is, sending Robin on his own is dramatically underselling what could happen." 

"I can handle Grayson just fine on my own! And Deathstroke doesn't scare me," Damian growled, with a stomp of his foot.

“Enough,” Bruce said, still facing away from the boys. “Robin, you will not be going alone. I will be contracting someone to accompany you. Someone Dick trusts, someone he won't affiliate with us.”

Bruce selected a computer file, and one of the screens lit up with a high resolution photo, clearly taken without the subject's knowledge. 

" _Please_ tell me you told Todd about this," Damian snorted. 

"Way to go nuclear, Bruce," Duke muttered. 

"Wait, Bruce," Tim said, sitting up straight. "How did you pull this off? How did you get her to agree?" 

"I assure you," Bruce sbegan, glaring up at the massive, if outdated, photo of Ravager. In it, she sported a smile and a Nightwing hoodie, and she was trying to climb Dick's back while he shouted. "She didn't need much persuasion." 

* * *

 

When Dick woke, it was to the smell of onions and garlic and bay leaf. The room was hot, very nearly too hot when paired with the electric blanket. He stretched and sat up, letting the blanket slide from his bare shoulders. Across the room, the fireplace was lit, flames licking what appeared to be a hanging cauldron. Slade prodded the fire with an iron poker and the logs spit embers.

“Are you cooking? In the fireplace? That's a thing?” Dick blurted. Slade glanced up from where he crouched to smirk at Dick.

“What did you think the crane was for?” Slade asked, gesturing to the apparatus from which the pot was hanging. Dick shrugged.

“Eclectic decor?” He offered. "A rustic vibe? The product of enthusiasm for colonial America?" 

Slade stood up and brushed off his hands. He stalked over and straddled Dick on the bed, pushing Dick’s shoulders down. Dick sucked in a breath and glanced up at Slade through his eyelashes. His skin grew too flushed to keep the blanket around, so he tried to kick it off as best he could with 200 lbs of mercenary looming over him. 

“You’re cute,” Slade murmured before leaning down and kissing a line from Dick’s collarbone to the scent gland behind his ear.Blissfully without any cramps for the first time in hours, Dick arched his neck and delighted in the touch. Slade’s hand drifted to the waistband of Dick’s briefs.

And then the door burst open. Splintered wood and a new, but familiar, scent filled the room. Dick scrambled out from underneath Slade and threw himself from the bed in time to miss the whistle of a knife as it flew past Dick's ear and embedded in Slade's upper arm.

"What the _fuck_ , Dick!" Rose shouted, sauntering in with the blunt end of her sword propped against her shoulder. "I expect this shit from Slade, but you? Really? Shack up with someone else's father, you asshole." 

"And I expect you to know how to carry your _katana_ into a fight," Slade said dryly. "We all face disappointment from those we invest in, Rose." 

In one fluid movement, Rose lifted her knee, unsheathed her gun from a calf holster, and trained the barrel at Slade. "I wasn't speaking to you, Slade," Rose hissed. "Does Wintergreen know what you've done?"

Slade tilted his head. "I'm sorry, were you speaking to me now?"

Dick growled. Aggression was rolling off both Rose and Slade in palpable waves, it was too much when paired with his IUD-induced hormonal shift. 

"Will you cut it out?" Dick snapped. "I don't have the physical capacity to deal with either of you right now, so disarm and we can talk over whatever Slade killed in the woods for food. Not everything has to be solved with a fucking sword fight."

"Damian's on his way," Rose offered, sheathing her sword.

"It's possible the stew's scorched," Slade added, ripping the knife from his arm. Blood gushed from the wound and dripped onto the woven rug. 

"For fuck's sake," Dick groaned.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lil Slade POV :)

The stew wasn’t scorched.

While Slade removed the pot from the fire, he watched Dick and Rose from the corner of his eye. The adrenaline appeared to have left Rose in its entirety, she was near complacent as Dick pulled on clothes and then maneuvered her around the room, to sit on the rug near the fire.

While subtle, Slade nevertheless noticed when Dick scent marked Rose with a brush of his wrist across the top of her head as he took her sword and placed it on the spare wall mount beneath Slade’s own. Less subtly, Rose grabbed Dick’s wrist when he circled back and yanked until Dick obligingly slid to his knees. She brought Dick’s wrist to her nose and Slade felt something immediate and ugly flare behind his ribcage.

“Rose,” Slade growled. Not spoken, growled. Dick jerked his head over his shoulder to shoot Slade a warning glance.

“What?” Rose hissed, lowering Dick’s wrist. “He smells weird, what did you do to him?” Her nose wrinkled. “You used to smell like perfume,” Rose muttered accusingly, nails digging into Dick’s skin.

“Jasmine,” Slade corrected. Rose narrowed her eyes at him.

“That’s what I said, perfume,” she bit back. “Now you smell all… all wrong. Off.”

She snarled that last word at Slade. After a glance to confirm that Dick’s attention was on Rose, Slade placed a hand on the still blistering cast iron pot to center himself. The pain kept him from responding to Rose’s insinuation, and her wide-eyed response was worth it. He removed his hand and placed the pot back on the fireplace’s crane, angled far enough away from the flames to keep it warm rather than cooking. He grimaced while his palm reddened, blistered, and then healed in quick succession.

“Rose,” Dick began, pulling away from her grip. She furrowed her brows, returned her troubled gaze back to Dick. She began glancing Dick up and down. Searching for an anomaly. “Rose, why are you here? Who sent you? It clearly wasn’t Wintergreen.”

Dick’s voice was soothing, placating. Dick didn’t want Rose to be angry, or perhaps he was trying to put out this fire before the second, shorter, angrier fire arrived. Slade himself didn’t mind a controlled burn.

“Does it matter?” Rose hissed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Grayson. You’ve got people who worry about you, do you even _know_ how selfish this is? What are you going to tell _Jason_?”

Dick’s scent spiked as his shoulders tensed and Slade took that as his cue. 

Slade walked over, towered in his full height to look down on Rose, and placed a hand against Dick’s neck, over the nearly healed bite. He rubbed his thumb in circles over Dick’s skin, as a show of possession every bit as much for Dick’s benefit. Rose’s eyes grew to saucers.

“Show some respect to your step-father, Rose,” Slade murmured.

Rose scrambled to her feet and backpedaled from them both. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Too much, Slade,” Dick bemoaned. “Way too much.” Dick cut off with a grunt, Slade presumed more cramps.

“No, no, no, no,” Rose chanted, looking from Dick to Slade. “No, that’s not what Batman told me. He told me you and Jason had—and then that you and Slade… Fuck.” Her arms fell limp at her sides as she blinked up at Slade. “I’ve been used.”

“Yeah,” Dick grit. “’S what he does.” Slade carded his fingers through Dick’s hair, but Dick remained tense. Slade frowned.

“Leave, Rose,” Slade said. “Take Robin with you when you do.”

Rose frowned and cocked her head at Dick. “Something’s up with you. What is it? You don’t look injured, why do you smell like it?”

“Intrauterine birth control,” Dick ground out, leaning forward with his eyes squeezed shut. Behind them, a thud sounded as Damian fell from the window he was attempting to sneak through. Slade glanced over his shoulder.

“I told you we should have chosen a windowless cabin,” Slade murmured, even as Damian scrambled to his feet, katana raised.

“Damian,” Dick barked, without moving from his curled position. “Stand down. You can present your case while we eat.”

Slade watched curiously as Damian’s nostrils flared. Then, Damian lowered his sword and crept forward, bashful but for the glares he offered Slade as he circumvented him to stand beside Rose, in front of Dick.

“You should have waited for me to engage,” Damian hissed at Rose.

“Yeah, well you should have briefed me that your dad’s a fucking liar,” Rose snapped back.

“Robin, Ravager!” Dick raised his voice, straightening up. “Sit down. Eat. Slade, feed them. No one speaks until I get a goddamn heating pad, am I absolutely clear?”

No one said a word, but Rose and Damian obediently plopped to the ground. Slade glowed with pride.

“Good.” Dick stood up, wandered over to the bedside table and opened a drawer. He pulled out a disposable heating pad and placed it beneath his shirt and sweats while Slade portioned out food for the children. Damian hesitated to take his bowl, but then Rose elbowed him, and he accepted it.

Dick returned and resettled onto the ground, cross-legged with the rest. Slade handed him food, and Dick brushed his wrist against the back of Slade’s neck gratefully. Both Rose and Damian’s eyebrows raised. Slade shot them a warning sneer that Dick pretended he didn’t see.

“Now. Rose. What did Bruce tell you?” Dick asked, before sipping at a spoonful of stew.

Rose glanced between Dick and Slade. “He contacted me and said that Jason’d been with you through a heat, but that Slade had manipulated you into a job before it was a good idea. I agreed to come help ‘cuz I thought I owed it to Jason and all. And then I got here, and you were… yeah. So, I thought. Yeah,” she mumbled her response to the bowl in her lap. “It appears I was misled.”

“Tt, it appears you didn’t do any preliminary investigation of your own,” Damian sneered. Dick’s shot him a sharp glance.

“And why did you come, Damian?”

Damian sat up rod straight. “Because Father told me to bring you home, and I said I would.”

Dick glanced at the bowl Damian held awkwardly away from himself and frowned.

“Slade, did you give him the stew?”

Slade cocked his head. “Yes. Should I not have?”

Dick stood up and walked over to a backpack hanging on a coat hook. He dug around and procured a bag of peanuts, a chocolate bar, a banana, and a tube of chips. He returned and offered Damian the snacks.

“Sorry, baby bird. We didn’t account for vegetarian guests.”

“Or any guests,” Slade offered.

Damian eyed the snacks as if they would grow teeth, but he set aside the stew and accepted them, after only a brief hesitation.

“You’re angry with me,” Damian reminded Dick incredulously, even as he tore into the peanuts.

Dick snorted and sat back down next to Slade. “Yeah, I am. Tell me why I shouldn’t be.”

Damian shifted, disgruntled. He looked away from Dick and scowled at the wall. He jumped when Rose’s elbow brushed his as she ate. He settled on glaring at Deathstroke.

“Because Father told me to come get you,” Damian muttered.

“He’s also repeatedly told you to leave the katanas at home,” Dick said. “Try again.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. Dick met his glare with raised eyebrows.

“Because you left us for _him_!” Damian finally blurted before abandoning his snacks to emphatically cross his arms. Rose jerked upright, shooting her father desperate, pleading glances. But Dick was Slade’s mate, and Damian would need to learn, so Slade shook his head at Rose and continued to eat even as the tension thickened. Rose scooted away from Damian before busying herself by poking a carrot with her spoon.

“Damian,” Dick pleaded. “Damian, you can’t think that. I haven’t left, not you, not Tim, not Duke or any of the family. I’m on a camping trip, I haven’t gone anywhere. In a few days, I’ll be back in Bludhaven.”

Slade kept his expression neutral. They’d argue that particular issue away from prying eyes.

Damian quirked an eyebrow. “What about Todd? Father won’t tell me what exactly happened after your… after you were compromised. Nor will Gordon, even though I know she knows. Drake said it was her, Father, Todd, and Bertinelli that drove you away. I just know that he was with you and then you disappeared and then you turned up here, smelling like him,” Damian jabbed a finger at Slade.

Dick froze. Rose hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until her lungs started to burn. Slade rolled his eye.

“You’ve got it confused, little one,” Slade murmured, gentle for Dick’s sake. “He wasn’t driven away, he’s made his own choices. Your father didn’t like it, and neither did Red Hood. That’s their burden, not Dick’s.”

“And not yours either,” Dick murmured, setting aside his bowl to shuffle forward and pull Damian into a hug despite the awkward angle. Rose pointedly looked away. “I hurt Jason’s feelings, and Babs and Helena got worried. That’s all. Everything is okay, Damian.”

Damian shoved him away so violently, Dick fell back and was forced to catch himself on his hands. Slade swallowed his building growl. Damian was practically Dick’s, it wouldn’t do to threaten him. Rose abandoned her bowl and stood, stepping back from Damian and reaching for a knife strapped to her hip. Slade cocked his head and she moved to stand behind him instead, even as he remained seated.

“I am not a child!” Damian growled, with all the strength of a kitten. His vocal cords weren’t developed enough to get the alpha timber he was imitating, but the point hit well enough. “Tell me what he did!”

“Jason held me down to shout at me,” Dick blurted, otherwise remaining where Damian put him. It was a placating gesture, a concession that Slade didn’t believe Damian earned. But it wasn’t his place to say. “He didn’t touch me except to hold down my wrists. He was upset with my decision to mate with Slade. I chose to mate with Slade after my heat, when in full control over my faculties.

“Jason reacted badly, and he lashed out, but he didn’t mean any harm,” Dick explained, slow, calm, gentle. Damian visibly lowered his shoulders, relaxed his stance. But his expression remained angry.

“Completely separate from anything to do with Jason, I decided to get an IUD for long term hormonal birth control. It’s an uncomfortable procedure, so Slade and I rented this cabin to relax while I got over the worst of it. That’s all of it. Are we good?” Dick finished.  

“Gordon and Bertinelli?” Damian prodded. Dick sighed.

“They came with Dinah to check on me after my heat. We exchanged words. They also don’t approve.”

“… Father?” Damian added, voice quieter. Dick rolled his eyes.

“He’s Bruce. He broke into my apartment to argue and then stormed out. If I’d known he was going to send a search party, I would have left him a note.”

And, like that, Damian collapsed in on himself to sink back to the ground. “Thank you,” Damian huffed. “All I wanted was to be kept abreast of the family’s happenings. I am the pack’s alpha, I should know these things.”

Dick shuffled forward and pulled Damian into a tight embrace, without correcting Damian’s assertion. “Are we good?” Dick repeated. Damian stiffened but then relaxed.

“Yes,” he murmured. “We are good.”

Dick released him and then stood, bending down to pick up the scattered bowls and utensils. Slade stood too, to go fetch Rose’s sword from the wall.

“Go home,” Slade said sternly. “Now.” He gave her the sword, and she nodded.

Dick much kindlier dragged Damian into another, standing embrace before murmuring, “Go, and take whatever trackers, wires, and bugs B packed into your utility belt with you.” He released Damian and scent marked his hair for good measure.

Damian had the sense to look sheepish. But then his expression soured. “If I find out anything you’ve said is false, I will be back,” Damian warned, losing whatever humility he’d learned within an instant.

“Alright, Alpha. Now, go, be gone,” Dick smirked, shoving him away. Damian muttered something inaudible, but marched out the front door, along with Rose. Slade locked the door behind them, and then barred the window for good measure. While he did that, Dick took it upon himself to search for any wiretap devices. He found three, but they were cruder than Bruce’s patent.

“Oh,” Dick cooed. “He made his own. I love that.”

Slade cocked his eyebrows, strode over, plucked them from Dick’s hand, and then crushed them in his fist. He returned the destroyed tech to Dick’s palm. Dick frowned.

“I wanted to keep at least one for posterity’s sake,” Dick whined. Slade walked away, settled onto the bed with a huff.

“They’re not baby teeth, little bird,” Slade murmured, closing his eye and rolling onto his back. He felt the mattress dip, and then he felt Dick curl up against him. Slade stroked his fingers up and down Dick’s spine, the tips of his fingers sliding just beneath Dick’s sweatpants.

“Damian won’t let me keep his baby teeth,” Dick whispered.

Slade cut his losses, withdrew his hand, and rolled over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I peaked with that last piece of dialogue, I shan't ever write again

**Author's Note:**

> Rose and Damian didn't share a ride because they couldn't agree on who would drive.


End file.
